making my way toward the bottle-wielding chiseller. I could see it coming from a mile away.
The swing was hard and wide. He reached back so far that his arm formed a right angle with his back. It missed by a lot, and the useless, make-shift weapon actually whistled as it hit absolutely nothing. I was a lot luckier, landing a clean, hard haymaker on the right side of his jaw. He just stood there for a moment as if trying to make up his mind before folding like a lawn chair.
“He signed a waiver, right?”
“Yep,” Samantha said, actually checking the records.
“Very good,” I said buttoning up my suit jacket.
I escorted Addie out to the car where Clementine was waiting, who ditched her cigarette as if I wouldn’t notice.
“Done already?”
“Sadly so. Drive fast, please,” I said. The beast was already coming around when we left. I didn’t want to risk him following us.
“The Sixty?” Clementine asked.
“Yes,” I said, holding Addie tight as she trembled.
I didn’t know if it was because she had never seen much violence or if she had seen too much and was having flashbacks. Either way, she was upset and there was no way I was leaving her in that state.
“Go get some food. I’ll call you when I need you,” I said, giving Clementine a fifty.
“Got it, boss.”
“Would you like a drink?” I asked, sitting Addie down on her bed at the Sixty.
“Very large whisky,” she said.
“Coming right up,” I said going to the mini bar that I already paid for.
Emptying two of the tiny bottles into a tumbler, I got myself a tonic with a twist of lemon. I took both glasses back to the bed.
“Thanks,” she said, taking the tumbler in a shaking hand.
It only took two sips. Two sips of whisky and Addie’s head was on my shoulder as she cried. Putting both glasses on the night table, I wrapped both arms around Addie, holding her tight.
“Am I really so disgusting?” she asked, clearly thinking the altercation was her fault when it wasn’t.
“Not at all. He is that stupid. We can only hope I knocked some sense into him.”
“That really was cool,” she said, starting to calm down.
“He had it coming.”
“Yeah, he did. What a prick.”
“That’s the spirit!”
“D-do you think you could stay with me?”
I would be lying if I said I wasn’t thinking about it. That and a lot of things. Despite the less than ideal cause, holding her in my arms, particularly while sitting on a bed, was filling my head with all sorts of ideas.
Did I want to stay with her?
Yes.
Did I think I could stay with her?
Not really.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” I said, without actually saying no.
“You’re probably right,” she said.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said.
“Yeah, see you tomorrow.”
I kissed her gently on the cheek, which raised no protest, and headed out. I got out my phone, hoping Clementine had at least already ordered.
Chapter Six - Addie
It was a dream. At least I tried to convince myself it was. Only I was confident there was just too much evidence to the contrary. Not least my hair cut. Everything had happened more or less the way I remembered it. The makeover. The horrible date. The producer taking me back to my place and me asking him to stay. That last bit wasn’t so bad. I really did want him to stay. It would have been better if he actually had, but I could also see his point. He had a show to think about, and I didn’t want Clementine to have to be waiting for his call all night.
I suddenly had the urge to tell someone and there was only one person who came to mind.
“What’s up, buttercup?”
“Well, hello to you too,” Mercy said, her tone distinctively icy.
“Sorry. I’m also sorry I didn’t call before. As you may have deduced from the radio silence, I got accepted for the show.”
“Figured,” Mercy said, the very picture of stoicism. Rather, she sounded like it at least.
“I am currently sitting in the Sixty hotel, done up like a 21st century Daisy Buchanan.”
“Jealous!” Mercy announced, as if it weren’t obvious.
“Don’t be too much. The date I was done up for turned out to be a disaster.”
“Define disaster,” Mercy said.
“He broke a wine bottle on the side of the table to make a weapon and the producer had to punch him out.”
“That’s a disaster alright,” Mercy concurred.
“At least the producer made sure the guy had signed a waiver, so the show